By Myself But Not Alone
by NovemberThorns
Summary: AU. I recommend you have watched seasons 1-5 if you want no spoilers. Sam was put up for adoption as a newborn, Dean found him 22 years later with help from a certain angel in trenchcoat. Will Dean be able to protect his newfound brother from Lucifer himself, AND his army? Revolves around Sam, Dean, Castiel & Gabriel. No Slash. Clicky for better summary!
1. Chapter 1: Pilot

**AN:**

Phew! The hardest part of this was shortening the summary down! Here's the little longer version;

AU. I recommend you have watched seasons 1-5 if you don't want to be spoiled.

Sam was put up for adoption when he was just born, so he has no idea about the supernatural.

Dean however, is a brilliant hunter. He found out about his missing brother from his father, lying on his deathbed. Thanks to everybody's favorite angel of the lord, Castiel, Dean manages to find Sam just in time to save him from the clutches of two vicious demons. The boys has to leave as soon as they can, since Lucifer is doing all he can to get to his vessel. Tough mission, to avoid the devil's army at all costs while also trying to stop the apocalypse from happening. Good thing they have two angels to help!

Hope I didn't spoil my own story so much ;u; Anyways, this is my first fanfiction ever. I hope I can receive a little constructive critique along the way to help me improve!

Thanks a lot in beforehand, I hope you all will enjoy my story!

(**Edit: **Alright so Souless666 pointed out a mistake I made and I hope I fixed all of it now ÓwÒ thank you so much for telling me!)

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**Chapter 1: Pilot**

_Sam Powell was the guy who had it all. _

_A loving family, great friends, and a fantastic girlfriend(who was really beautiful too, mind you). He even had the perfect grades and a very promising future. _

_His life had been like a dream, there was not a single obstacle in his way to success. Not until the day when a certain FBI agent John Bonham, Dean Winchester or whatever, decided to knock on his door at least._

**15/9-12, Saturday, 4:32 PM.**

Sam sat in the corner of the old couch, holding the X-Box controller tight as he muttered curses at his girlfriend for being the better player. He could hear her laugh through the headphones and then tease him with that baby-voice he hated. But not really. It was silly how much he loved Jess, she was really one of a kind. She was always smiling, not afraid to show her adorably bucked teeth that went so well with her almost invisible freckles and blonde, wavy hair.

A couple of loud knocks tore him from his concentration on the game (or rather his daydreaming about Jessica) and he forced himself to pause.

"I'll be right back Jess, someone is at my door."

"Alright, but don't take too long! Our team is about to lose!"

Sam put away the headgear just in time to not be able to reply, but he did smile a little to himself as he walked over to the door. He opened it, giving the man standing outside a questioning look. It was a just slightly older guy than himself, wearing a suit and sunglasses. In Sam's opinion, he looked extremely misplaced in that outfit.

The man looked almost surprised for a couple of seconds, but he quickly gathered himself again and managed to put on a professional face.

"The name is John Bonham, special agent FBI. I have a few questions I hope I could ask you, Mr. Powell." The man said, holding up a fancy looking badge.

Sam raised his eyebrows and looked at the man closely. FBI, here? Wanting to ask _him_ questions?

Realizing he had been drifting off, Sam shook his head lightly and stuttered out,

"Umm.. I mean, yeah of course. Come on in." Sam said as he opened up the door some more, turning around to walk into the small house. He gave the bat that stood resting against the closet a quick glance, he needed to have a way to protect himself in case this guy wanted something else instead of.. answers. Sam wasn't stupid, maybe paranoid was the right word but this whole situation just screamed _weird!_

He took a step out of the way so Mr. Bonham, John, whatever, could step inside. The agent turned around and smiled a friendly smile, taking off his sunglasses and revealed a pair of calm, green eyes. He looked tired though, Sam noted. Tired and worn out.

"So.. do you want anything to drink or.. do you wanna get straight to business?"

John chuckled a little at how Sam chose to state the question, then smirked a little before shrugging. "Do you have beer?"

Sam chuckled a little, at first believing it was a joke, but John looked almost confused and that made Sam stop smiling.

"I thought you agent people weren't allowed to drink on duty..?"

John made an expression as if someone had caught him with the hand in the cookie jar, then he tried to look innocent.

"Yeah that's right, but sometimes a man just needs his beer. But a soda will do just fine too, thanks." He said, following Sam into the kitchen and sat down by the table.

Sam took out two bottles of soda from the fridge and placed one in front of John along with a bottle opener, then sat down in front of him and opened his own soda. John cleared his throat as he opened the bottle, giving Sam a glance as he took a quick sip.

"So, Sam. You are aware of what happened to Mrs. Brown, who lived further down this street?"

"I am, yes.." Sam replied quietly, looking down at the table sadly. Mrs. Brown had been like a grandmother to him. Always caring and always offering cookies or fresh strawberries to him and his friends. Then she was murdered. No one knew what had happened, and who it was who had done it.

John nodded a little to acknowledge Sam's answer, then kept on with the questions.

"Me and my partner have been following up a couple of leads on that case. So I'm just wondering, have you noticed any cold spots in this house? Or anywhere else?"

"Excuse me? How is that relevant?"

"Just answer the question."

Sam raised his eyebrows in disbelief and John appeared to notice his doubt.

"Please trust me on this, kid. I've been an agent for a long time so I know what I'm doing."

"Fine, _sir_. No I haven't felt any cold spots around, why?"

"Have you noticed any strange smells, like sulfur or almost rotten flesh? Or seen any smoke in strange places?"

"What? No! Is this some kind of joke?

"Calm down Sam, please. Focus on what I'm asking. This is vital to the case." John said, looking as if it was a matter of life or death so Sam did as he was asked to.

But a crash from upstairs had Sam on his feet immediately.

"What was that?" He asked, not expecting anyone to answer though. The FBI agent put down the soda bottle as calmly as he could and pretended to not have heard anything.

"I didn't hear anything." He tried, hoping that the taller man wouldn't go and check what it was, but Sam had already fetched the bat from the hallway and was now on his way up the stairs.

John held out his hands in a gesture of hopelessness, but decided to follow Sam up the stairs in order to be able to clear the situation out.. properly.

Sam fumbled open the door to the room he believed the crash had come from, raising the bat lightly when he saw a shadow inside. He turned around towards John, who honestly looked more nervous than Sam felt. Sam nodded against the door and mouthed towards John that it was someone inside.

He flicked the door open, glaring at the man who currently stood crouched by Sam's cupboard with his back turned against the two.

"Alright, stop whatever you're doing and turn around. I hope you're aware that this is a break-in in a private household, and with me here stands an FBI agent so I suggest you give yourself up peacefully."

And that was a speech that had even 'John' impressed, but Sam didn't know how wrong he was about the situation.

The dark haired man turned rose up slowly, turning around without even hinting that he was about to hold up his hands or anything like that. He looked like a office worker or something, Sam noted. Or perhaps a mix between a office worker and a hobo. He wore a suit, but he had a trench coat over, or overcoat or whatever. It didn't matter. He also had a beard shade over his jaw, and a slightly confused expression. Then he turned to John.

"I'm guessing he heard. I.. I seem to have walked into the table, it wasn't on purpose. I apologize."

Sam looked more confused than he probably had ever been, and he looked as John rolled his eyes and seemed to hold back an annoyed sigh.

"Wait wait wait, you're with him?" Sam asked, feeling his irritation grow. He held his bat a little higher, but the man in trench coat did absolutely nothing that signaled that he was about to give himself up. John however, took a step away from Sam as he noticed that he was turning hostile to the both of them.

"Whoa, no. I'm taking this fellow out of here now, he's coming with me right to the station!" John said, smiling bright to Sam as he hurried over to the stranger and grabbed him by the coat, whispered something against his ear that made the mysterious man nod once.

Sam just looked as the odd people hurried out from the room, down the stairs, then out. Now he had the feeling that he had just been tricked. But nothing appeared to be gone..

He opened the bottom drawer and looked inside, taking out a small bag that was pressed inside the corner in the back. They must have.. Put it there? He threw it on the bed and put the drawer back into the cupboard then sat down on the bed and opened the bag up. His face twisted into disgust when he picked out bone after bone, along with other... satanic stuff. Fuck. What the _fuck._


	2. Chapter 2: What was never meant to be

**AN:**

Hey again everyone! I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed or added this story to their favs/alert list! :3

After this chapter I'll try writing a little longer chapters, the Pilot chapter and this one is sort of like the prologue. Maybe I could've mashed them both together, but I didn't. I'm writing them on my cell phone so they look like they're incredibly long and awesome but when I put them on my computer to edit I'm like - _dear god why.._

Also, I'm changing the rating to M since.. well, gore. It's probably not that horribly graphic in this chapter but I'm paranoid 8D

Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 2: What was never meant to be**

Sam had been running around the house like crazy, finding bag after bag and throwing them out like they were cursed. Which they probably where. He had found around 8 of those, one in each room. Who the hell had those people been? Impersonating FBI and breaking into his house? That's pretty heavy crimes right there. Sam sighed as he picked up the phone, punching in 911 to report to the police that there are two weirdos running about.

When he hung up, they had decided that two policemen would come by and take a look at the bags, at least. He sighed, leaning back on the bed and pressed his telephone against his ear again. Wanting to talk to Jess now. He needed a little verbal comfort.

20 minutes later he could hear a car stop outside on the driveway, so he excused himself to Jess and hurried down the stairs. He opened the door and looked at the two policemen standing there, smiling eerily at him.

"Sam Powell?"

"Yeah. Come on in." He said, stepping inside and then went to take out two of the bags that the two strangers had left behind. He handed them over and watched how the two men opened one each, and inspected the contents.

"Yep, these are the real deal alright." One of them said, holding a thin bone that he had taken from the little bag between his fingers. The other one nodded in acknowledgement, then the two policemen turned against Sam, their eyes flashing black and right then Sam knew that he was in trouble. He was just going after the bat, when suddenly something struck the back of his head, and the whole world turned black.

Sam slowly drifted into consciousness again, feeling his body ache slightly. When he managed to open his eyes and take a look around, he saw almost nothing but the darkness of his home. He was restricted, as well. Tied up to be exact, at what felt like the living room chair. What the hell was going on? Suddenly a hand stroke his neck from behind and it made him freeze in horror, he whimpered quietly of fright and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Look at me, Sam. You don't have to be scared, I'm not going to hurt you."

This didn't exactly calm him down, not at all. He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked at the fake-policeman, who still had those pitch black eyes.

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked, voice slightly strained from the pain he was feeling.

"Well you know.. things. I can't really tell you, Sammy." He laughed, almost giggled out. It only added to the eeriness. Good thing Sam knew how to hold a pokerface, because he was scared shitless right now. Sam made a disgusted face towards the villain, then gathered spit inside of his mouth and spat it out right into the man's face. He watched as the 'non-hostile' man froze lightly, eyes shut in what appeared to be annoyance and mouth open from the surprise. He wiped the spit from his face, then punched Sam without warning right in the face, turning his lights off again.

Next time Sam blinked into consciousness, it was because he could hear the front door unlock and open. He tried to scream for help, but he was gagged pretty tightly. He couldn't make out a single letter. Just sounds and barely that.

"Sammy? Sammy are you home?" It was his mother's voice, and it came from the hallway. Sam gulped as he tried to warn her, but a knife pressed against his cheek, making him shut up pretty efficiently. Only a small whimper came from his throat. He looked up at his kidnapper with pleading eyes, but received only a smirk.

"I want you to watch closely now, _Sammy_. Watch closely as me and my partner slaughter your family." The disgusting man whispered against Sam's ear, making his whole body shiver out of fear and extreme nervousness. He tried begging, but he couldn't.

_Please let my family go.._

"Sorry Sammy, no can do."

**Dean's POV**

"Dean, something's wrong."

"Damn right something's wrong, you made me put up a fake show in front of my long lost brother while you broke into his house and left freaking hex bags all around, that's _wrong!_"

"That's not what I meant. Besides, the hex bags was for his own protection against the demons. We've talked about that already. But as I said, I think.. I know something is wrong. We should visit the Powell residence. Immediately."

"Alright. But we drive there. Come on."

Dean got up from the bed and hurried out from the motel to the black Chevrolet Impala standing proudly at the parking spot right where he left her.

He opened the front door and jumped inside, firing up the engine in a matter of seconds and looked up at the rearview mirror to see if Castiel was with him. As he almost predicted, the dark haired man sat there already, ready to go. So Dean drove them out from the parking lot and back onto the highway, heading for his.. _god_ it felt weird to say it, for his brother.

The trip took maybe 10 minutes; he had chosen a nearby motel so if the time came, he could be right there to help. But judging from the police car that stood here, he was already too late.

"Fuck, you were right Cas! Will you-" Dean looked around. Cas was gone. Probably inside already. Dean cursed under his breath as he loaded his gun quickly and ran through the yard. He froze for a second when a white light flashed through the windows. That better had been Castiel. He kicked in the door, not exactly being prepared for what he was about to see though.

Dean was used to gore, he had seen a lot of fucked up things in his life but this almost took the price. There were human body parts hanging from the ceiling and walls. And there was blood everywhere, and other parts that didn't belong outside a person's body.. But the _smell_ was the worst. He couldn't even bring himself to try and describe it. Dean covered his mouth and nose as he walked into the house of slaughter. He really hoped that this wasn't Sam..

When he entered the living room, the first thing he noticed was Castiel, or rather his clean coat. It was probably the only thing inside that wasn't soaked in red. The room itself were _decorated_ similarly as the rest of the house, and it smelled just as horrible.

"I destroyed both of the demons, Dean. Sam is.. He should be alright. I can't speak for his psychological state though." Castiel murmured, turning around from the chair that stood in the middle of the room. It was Sam. Tied tightly with a thick rope and all covered in gore.

Dean's heart ached for the poor soul, these remains were probably from the rest of the Powell household.. Sam's family. That was what the empty gaze in Sam's eyes told him. Sam was conscious and appeared to be unharmed, but he hadn't looked up at Dean or Castiel even once.

"We need to get him out of here, before anyone discovers what happened." Dean muttered as he cut off the ropes holding Sam. He helped the tall man up on his legs, but Sam's body pretty much sloped against him so he lost his balance. Seconds before tripping, the weight disappeared and Dean stumbled into balance again. He looked up, seeing Castiel standing as steady as always; only that he was supporting Sam in the same way as Dean had failed to do. Sometimes Dean forgot what the scrawny guy actually was capable of.

".. Thanks, now come on." Dean mumbled as he walked out from the horror house.

They arrived back at the motel only moments later. Dean had pushed the speed limits, so to say. He and Castiel hurried inside with Sam, Dean trying the whole time to communicate with him but there were no response other than mm's and mhm's.

"Sam you need to talk to us, tell us what happened so we can help." Dean said as Sam they had just helped Sam to sit down. The long haired male looked up for the first time tonight then, and glared at Dean.

"Why would I tell you anything? This all happened after _you _showed up, putting freakin' satanist bags all over the house! And now they're all dead.." He trailed off, while looking as if he was about to cry.

Dean wanted to defend himself from the accusations, but he didn't. He understood that Sam wouldn't care about that now. There was so much grief and sadness in his eyes.. Dean could only vaguely remember how horrible it had been to lose his mother, and he had only been a kid back then.

"Sam listen to me."

"Leave me alone."

"No, you listen. We may seem like the bad guys to you but we're not. We're not your kidnappers, we're keeping you here for protection. Those things back there? They were after you. Me and my friend here, we just want to keep you safe." Dean said in a serious, sympathetic tone.

"What's so special with me? Why didn't you want to protect my family?"

Dean made a hurt face, Sam really must think the worst of him. With a sigh, Dean looked away only to notice that the awkward angel had left the room. Good thing Sam hadn't noticed. He looked back at Sam, watching how the poor guy buried his face in his palms.

"Hey.. listen. You can have this room for yourself, but I'm gonna have to lock you in for your own protection. Okay? You can take my cellphone though. I trust you. You'll find me on speed dial."

At first Sam didn't react at what he said, but soon enough he held out a hand and took the cellphone from Dean's grip.

"And if it means anything.. I'm really sorry about your loss." Dean murmured solemnly, before turning around and leaving his newfound brother for the night. He felt bad for not being able to comfort him more, or not being able to tell him everything. But he knew that Sam had had enough drama for a lifetime today.


	3. Chapter 3: Wicked World

**AN:**

I am hopeless. I'm not even going to make excuses that this took so long. I'm just hopeless. Hope you haven't given up on me guys XD 3

Remembered that perhaps I should put a disclaimer somewhere in this story.

I own none of the characters nor the show, yada yada. It's a _fanfiction,_ right?

I don't own the title either, I borrowed it from a Black Sabbath song. I have no shame in my body. But Black Sabbath is awesome.

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**Chapter 3: Wicked world**

His body was aching, and in his mind he felt nauseous. It was the empty, sinking feeling kind of nauseous. And it wasn't going away anytime soon.

Sam sat there on the bed of some.. stinking motel. Drenched in his family's blood. Thankfully the stranger, John or whatever his name really was, had been kind enough to clean off the worst while Sam had still been in shock. It was still on him though, he could tell. And it made him want to scrub his skin off.

Long minutes of silence passed by as he just sat there, listening to the faint sound of his heart beating against his ribcage. Compared to the rest of the room, the sound was deafening. And it stressed him up. So he got up from the bed on impulse and entered the bathroom in a matter of seconds. He ripped his bloody clothes off and threw them in every direction of the room, knocking over bottles and vases, toothbrush-stands and other various objects. He didn't care.

He stepped into the bathtub and turned on the shower, not caring that it was ice cold.

Sam didn't even remember going to bed that night.

**16/9-12, Sunday, 10.12 AM.**

Sam woke up with a throbbing headache and a horrible feeling in his gut. Something was wrong. Not just something, everything.

His family was gone, he had been taken hostage by two very odd men who had impersonated the authorities. Why the hell hadn't he called the cops yet? He reached out for the cellphone one of the guys had given him, pressed the number and then stared at it for a couple of seconds before he pressed cancel. He had no idea why he did it, but there was something about that guy.. He hesitantly pressed speed dial and pressed the phone to his ear. The signal beeped a couple of times before a silent click was heard, then a rough, sleepy voice answered;

"Yeah hello?"

Sam hesitated, then he pressed out a short "Hi."

First there was a moment of silence, then there was noises of fabric shuffling. Probably bed sheets.

"Sam? How are you feeling?"

"Peachy. Can you just.. bring your buddy or whatever so we can talk."

"Yeah, sure. Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

"Ehm.. Not really, no.."

"We'll be right there then."

Click.

Sam stared at the telephone with a skeptic look. What was up with that guy? He sounded like they had known eachother their whole lives, yet he had never met the man before all.. this happened. Goddammit, he was so confused.

He looked around in the messed up room after his clothes, but when he saw them lie there covered in blood, he made a disgusted face and hurriedly got up of bed. He grabbed all of it and threw it in the sink, lit a match and then burned every last bit. The stench of burning clothes and gore spread through the room, but all Sam did was stand and watch the flames lick over and consume his favorite pair of jeans and the old T-shirt until there was nothing left. He turned the water on, then turned around and grabbed a towel. He tied it around his hips and then sat down on the bed again. He stared at the door for minutes before it finally opened and the 'John' guy stepped inside.

They exchanged looks, Sam's being almost completely empty while the fake FBI agent had the most emotion filled eyes he had ever seen. The brown haired man stepped inside the room and shut the door with a soft click.

"Seems I was right about you needing clothes.. I didn't know your size though. But hopefully it'll do." He murmured, placing a plastic bag at the end of the bed.

Sam looked at it with eyes of distrust, but finally gave in and reached out to take the clothes and get dressed.

The stranger had turned around to give him some sort of privacy feeling, and now an extremely awkward silence had been created.

"My name is Dean Winchester by the way. I'm sorry that I lied to you about that before." Dean said, taking off his leather jacket and placed it over a chair.

"Why did you lie?"

"Okay.. This is going to sound really weird but, that was the easiest way to get you to let me in. Once again I'm sorry, but I did it for your sake."

"For my sake? You put a load of satanic mumbo jumbo crap in my house for my sake?"

"They're called hex bags, they were created for one purpose only. And that was to hide you from those.. things. From yesterday."

Sam froze lightly. What on earth had he ended up in the middle of? Could it be some sort of lunatic gang-war? He didn't know, but this Dean guy wasn't making a lot of sense.

"So you're saying.. A bag with bones and coins were supposed to protect me from murderers?"

"I don't expect you to believe me right away, it sounds crazy I know. But it's real, it's all real. And those guys from last night? They weren't human. They were demons. You saw their black eyes, right?"

Sam opened his mouth in a protest. But he didn't dare to. He had seen it with his own eyes after all. The brutal slaughter hadn't been humanly possible, now that he thought about it. Sam stayed quiet and let Dean keep talking.

"I would give anything in the world to not have to tell you all this, but it's too late now and that's my fault. I'm so, so sorry."

"What does any of this have to do with me? Me of all people? And how did you even know how to find me?"

Dean sighed. He walked to sit next to Sam on the bed, looking up at him with a pained expression.

"It's really complicated, Sam. And it's going to be a lot to take in. Promise me you'll at least give me a chance to try and explain it all?"

"Alright.. Fine. It's not like I can go anywhere." Sam replied, nodding to Dean's jacket. He had spotted the gun when Dean had entered the room.

"As I said, I'm not a kidnapper. I'm not a FBI agent either, but you knew that already. As a matter of fact, I'm a so called hunter. I come from a family of hunters. Our 'job' is to search out evil and kill it."

"Okay so.. why didn't you kill those 'demons' if you knew they were coming?"

"That's the thing about demons. One second they're there, the other they aren't. They're not easy to track, and definitely not easy to kill. But I can tell you more about the occult later. We need to talk about you."

"About me?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for bringing this up, but it's really important. Did you and your family ever talk about your real parents? Because I assume you know that you're adopted?"

Sam stared at the stranger in shock. Okay now he was starting to feel freaked out. More freaked out. When Dean was talking about monsters and stuff he hadn't really known what to think. That he was mad? Telling lies, using the fact that Sam had been in shock last night?

But now the stranger was telling him hard facts that not most people knew. How could he possibly know that?

"W-well.. No, we didn't talk about them so much. I don't even know their names. Why?"

"Their names were Mary and John Winchester. I'm bringing this up because they were my parents too, Sam. Which means that.. I'm your brother."

Sam stared. He looked at the man, trying to seek out a resemblance he could connect to or just.. anything. Dean must've felt uncomfortable, for Sam stared for at least 2 long minutes before he could bring himself to speak.

"I have a brother..? I thought my biological mother died when I was practically a newborn?"

The other man smiled solemnly, then nodded in confirmation.

"She did. I was around four then, so don't flatter yourself into thinking you're the older one." He said with a little smirk. But thankfully he dropped it soon enough. He knew Sam wasn't exactly in the mood to joke around.

"Look.. I appreciate you and your friend saving me yesterday but this.. this is.."

"Too much at once?"

"Yeah."

"And I haven't even gotten started on the worst parts.."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm gonna go and get something to eat for you. And me. I'm starving. I'll lock the door again but it's for your own safety, okay? You know how to contact me."

"Sure."

He received a smile from the odd stranger before he left. Sam sighed and fell down onto the mattress, staring up into the pastel yellow ceiling. He had a hard time believing anything of what Dean had told him, but somehow the whole supernatural creatures was easier to take in than the fact that they were brothers. _Fact_? What was he thinking? He hadn't gotten any proof that it was true. Other than that Dean knew an awful lot about him for being a man Sam had never seen before. He made a face, trying to make sense of things but it was so hard. He felt alone, powerless and scared. He missed his parents and he missed Jess. Jess. He flew up from the bed and grabbed the phone. She must be worried senseless after yesterday, the fact that he hadn't called back.

He pressed her numbers without hesitation and finally pressed the phone to his ear.

When she finally answered, she sounded out of breath. Worried.

"..Hello?"

"Jess, it's me."

"Oh my _god_, Sam. Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm.. I can't tell you. But I'm alright I think.. shit."

"I.. I don't even know what to say.

I saw on the news what happened to your parents. I'm.. I'm so sorry Sam. So sorry."

He didn't know what to answer to that. _Thanks? It's alright?_ Neither were good answers, because neither was true. So he just sat in silence.

"I was there when it happened." He finally pressed out, staring into the mattress.

The other side of the line was quiet, but he thought he could hear small sobs.

"Please tell me where you are, Sam. I can't.. I need to see you." She was crying, he guessed she didn't like having this conversation over the phone.

"I'm sorry I can't, I'm not even sure where I am. Some motel I think. But I'm safe. I'm with the people who saved me, they said that I still was in danger."

"But the murderers are dead! You should just come back, please! I'm sure the police can keep you safe, Sam. Please!"

"I'm sorry, but it's.. I think it's more complicated than that. But I'll call you back, ok? I just wanted you to know that I'm okay."

"No, don't you dare hang u-"

It hurt but he had to do it. He couldn't tell her any of the stuff Dean had told him, she would freak out even more then. But perhaps that was the right thing to do. Why hadn't he freaked out yet?

He looked up and around in the messy room. Right, he already had. But not after Dean and his conversation.

Suddenly the room-door clicked and it was opened, in stepped Dean. Speak of the devil.

"Hi. Hope you like pie, I got you my favorite one."

"Uhm.. Thank you." He replied, raising an eyebrow to the other man's cheery appearance. He took the bag with the food in it when Dean handed it over, and sat on the bed with his legs crossed.

"Where is your friend anyways?"

"I don't know really, he's uh.. a bit of a free soul. Comes and goes however he wants."

"Okay.. not weird at all."

"Compared to what I deal with on a daily basis? No not really."

Sam gave him quite the skeptic glance, then he unpacked the bag. He took out a bottle of yoghurt and a pie wrapped in foil. It smelled delicious, and his stomach responded to that with a low growl. Dean must've noticed because he was smiling.

"No need to be a prude, just dig in."

Sam gave him a little warning glare, before he decided to just be quiet and actually eat. He didn't want to, but he needed it.

It took the grand total of 40 minutes for Sam to finish eating, Dean had waited patiently, sometimes trying to make pointless small talk but Sam hadn't been that cooperative. Dean got the hint soon enough, so now they just sat there in awkward silence.

"How did you find me?" Sam finally said, looking straight into Dean's green eyes.

"Uhm.. I may have gotten my hands on some files or two from the hospital.

"You.. broke into the hospital?"

"Well.. yes. But if I hadn't you wouldn't be sitting here right now. So I suppose we could look over that little detail?"

"I suppose we could." Sam agreed, smirking a little. He sighed as he looked into the floor.

"So what now? You're going to take me along on your wild zombie-slaying adventure?"

"... Yeah. I can't really leave you behind now, when the demons know where to find you."

Sam's expression grew a little colder and his lips drew out in a thin line. He pushed away the empty plastic bag over the bed and crossed his legs.

"What do they want?"

Sam noticed how Dean's body stiffened at the question. It obviously was something going on. Probably some weird freaking family curse he had somehow gotten pulled into. Great.

"Ehm.. It's really heavy Sam. Are you sure you want me to lay it on you now?"

"What could possibly be more heavy than- oh my _god!_"

He had not been prepared when Dean's friend suddenly stood behind him, and he had no clue how long he had been there. But there had been a slight breeze and that was how Sam had noticed.

The dark haired man looked at Sam with a questioning gaze. Then he looked up at Dean, and from what Sam could tell he didn't break eye contact even once. Odd.

"Hi Sam. How are you feeling?" The man asked with a voice rough like concrete.

"Uhm.. alive, I guess. A little nervous."

"Sam, this is Castiel. He's my.. friend."

Sam didn't know what to make of that hesitation, but he didn't think more of it. If it was as he thought, then Sam wouldn't judge. His long lost brother(note that in his mind he thought this sentence with a sarcastic voice) could be with whoever he wanted to. But Castiel sure seemed like an oddball.

"Nice to meet you." Sam said, holding out his hand hesitantly. Dean inspected the two of them with curiosity, and was not surprised that Castiel only stared at Sam's hand for a couple of seconds, looking like he was completely lost.

"You're supposed to shake it." Dean offered, looking at Castiel with a gaze that _said I'm-not-judging-you-but-dude-seriously?_

So the man clad in a suit and trench coat reached out his hand and shook Sam's hand. Literally. He had grabbed onto it and shook it from side to side in swift motions. Nothing like a handshake was supposed to be.

Sam smiled very confused and finally took his hand back when Castiel seemed pleased, and he gave Dean a questioning look. Dean, who looked like he had been holding back a laugh, smiled and shrugged.

"He's not from around. Anyways, we should get out of here. Sam do you have anything you want to bring? Cas could get it for you, from your house I mean."

Sam squirmed a little in his seat, looking really uncomfortable. He had been relatively fine until Dean brought up his home again. And that he was leaving for good now. What was he even going to tell everyone? He had so many friends, and his family.. cousins and so on. They would be so worried.. His attention turned to the two men before him again when Dean had asked if he was okay.

"I'm fine.. ehm. Could you get some clothes? My computer and phone, too? And there's a pendant I'd like to have as a memory-.. No nevermind, mom wore it when she.." Sam fell silent then, looking down into the bed. Castiel nodded as he had made a check list inside of his head. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"I will bring you those things." He said, looking like he was bracing himself for something but he hesitated, and after receiving a glare from Dean he walked out from the door.

Sam watched as the door closed, then glanced at Dean with one raised eyebrow.

"So he, uh.."

"Wondering which planet he's from? I'm sure he'll be glad to tell you if you ask." Dean said in a half-joke tone and smiled in a way Sam figured was very typical for being him. He had seen it at least 5 times already today.

"So how are you holding up? I mean, this won't exactly be the vacation of your dreams considering the circumstances."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Ehm.. I'm surprisingly calm considering.. the _circumstances_, as you put it. I think I'm in shock though."

"Whoa? For real? Is it dangerous?"

"I have no idea. But I feel pretty okay, not dying at least."

"That's a plus.. but just tell me if you need anything. Food, talk, hugs, money, etcetera." He said and smiled, and that's when Sam decided that he was going to keep count on how many times he saw that quirky smirk, just to keep his mind off other stuff. Now it was 6 times and counting.

Suddenly the door opened and Castiel stepped inside, holding the objects than Sam had asked for. He hadn't even put them in a bag. He put the clothes on the bed, placed the computer and the charger on the table a bit away from them, then went to Sam and gave him his phone.

"I hope this will suffice." He said, expression as blank as ever.

"Wow, thanks Castiel. This is really great." He said, impressed. The strange man hadn't been gone for more than 10 minutes, which did strike Sam as weird, but he didn't mind.

"You're welcome. And eh, almost forgot. Here you go." He said, digging around in his pocket and pulled up a necklace, Sam's pendant. He stared at it for what felt like hours, before slowly taking it into his hand.

"But how..?"

Castiel only smiled. It was a true smile, warm and honest. But it only added to the mystery around him and his identity and Sam was itching for answers.

"Thanks.. I really mean it. Thanks." He said, hugging the necklace tight as he took it on. It was completely clean, and it made Sam wonder if his mother had taken it off before.. well.

He looked at Dean, who was looking back at him and smiling lightly. Sam returned it half heartedly, as he got up from the bed.

"We should go."

"No goodbyes?"

"I'll contact my aunt in a week or so, tell them I'm on a roadtrip 'cuzz I couldn't handle being here. My girlfriend already knows I'm going, she'll tell my friends.. I don't want to put any of them in danger, if it is as you say."

Dean seemed impressed, nodding a little to himself as he listened.

"You're really strong Sam, and wise. Now come on before you change your mind."

Sam gave him a weak smile for the compliment as he gathered his stuff, and the three of them walked outside. They got in Dean's car, which he spent five minutes bragging and telling the background story about. He ended the whole storytelling time with a Dean-smirk, which Sam added to his inner list.

Soon they were so far away from Sam's home that it was just a dot in the rearview mirror.


	4. Chapter 4: Hit the road

**AN:  
**

****I'm sorry that this is so late and probably really shitty ;_; It's more of a filler chapter I suppose, even more than last one. But hopefully I'll be able to kick some action into life pretty soon. And I'm sorry for weird spelling mistakes, I'm writing this fan fiction on my cellphone and spell-check can be a bitch xD Hopefully I fixed them all though.

Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Hit the Road**

**16/9-12, Sunday, 9:13 PM.**

**Dean's POV**

It had been surprisingly exhausting sitting in a car for eight hours straight, but Sam seemed had solved that problem by leaning his head against the window and started counting the road stripes until he had fallen asleep.

That had left Dean and Castiel in a somewhat awkward silence, but between those two almost everything was so awkward that it wasn't awkward any more.

"He was taking it surprisingly well." Said the quiet, dark voice from the backseat.

"Yeah, but I doubt it has sunk in yet. So you might want to wait with.. you know, showing the feathers. And all that."

"Isn't it better to tell him all at once? So we get it over with?"

"Yeah but come on Cas, you know what this guy has been through." Dean hissed, trying to keep as quiet as possible to not wake his sleeping brother.

"I know, but I can't possibly prioritize his psychological health before the lives of billions of people."

"Like it or not, you have to. Trust me on this. Besides.. he's my brother. All family I have."

"But Dean-"

"Please?"

It was silent for a little while, then Dean thought he could hear the angel fall back against the seat in resignation.

"Fine."

**Sam's POV**

Sam blinked his green eyes open slowly, listening to the voices around him without really making out what the words said. He was so deeply buried in his own thoughts and feelings that he couldn't express them, or live them out fully.

He missed Jessica, he missed his mother and father. He missed his friends, he missed Mrs. Brown and her strawberries, but most of all he missed the place he could never go back to without breaking apart; home.

He put his hands to his face and tried to rub away the memories, when suddenly a wave of nausea hit him.

"I think I'm going to be sick." He pressed out with a choked tone.

"What?" Said Dean.

"Stop the car!"

Thankfully Dean did as he was told, and Sam pretty much fell out of the car since he had opened the door while they still were in motion. He barely got enough time to find balance before he fell to his knees threw up. He did it multiple times, and it did actually help a bit.

A soft hand was placed on his shoulders, probably in an attempt of comfort but Sam couldn't feel anything but sudden rage.

"Don't _touch _me." He spat, not bothering to look up at whoever it was who stood there. But he assumed it was Dean. The hand disappeared, but he could practically feel the hesitation from its owner.

"Sorry. Are you okay?"

"No I'm not okay! What the hell do you think? I'm trying to process everything but everything's happening all too damn fast! I've seen my family slaughtered, lied to my friends, and I've pretty much been kidnapped. And oh, I almost forgot. Demons are real! What's next? Freakin' ghosts and vampires?!"

The look on Dean's face was unreadable, maybe a hint of sadness but otherwise Sam couldn't tell.

"I understand that it must be hard.. I'm not going to say that I know how you're feeling, because I don't. But if there's anything I can do, let me know."

"I want to be alone."

"A little difficult in a car.. but we could always find a motel. Same procedure as last time, an own room and everything. Does that sound okay?"

"I guess."

Dean smiled sadly as he helped Sam up onto his legs again, then the both of them sat back in the car, looking at different directions. Anywhere but eachother. Sam however, was a little startled by the firm hand placed on his shoulder. He looked back, meeting Castiel's blue eyes. He looked as stern as usual, but Sam thought he could see a hint of sympathy in his gaze.

"It'll be okay, Sam. Dean and I will help you through this."

"...Thanks." Sam murmured, hoping Castiel would hear the hint of appreciation in his voice. He sighed quietly, looking out through the window with his gaze fixed on the nature that they were flying by in 60 miles per hour.

He must've fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes he was lying down. On a bed. In a room.

Sam sat up and looked around, a little surprised by the change of scenery, but in the same time it was a relief. He sat up slowly and placed his feet on the floor. He lifted up one of his foots on top of his leg and started undoing the shoe laces. He took his time to do it, just to keep himself calm. Yet his mind was still running through all that was at an alarming speed, and he could practically feel his pulse quicken. When he was done he threw both shoes through the room, listening to them hit the wall and then the floor. He stared for a bit, then reached around and took the bed cover and mashed it into a pile. He wrapped his arms around it and breathed in the musty scent.

It reminded him a little of that summer when his dad had thought that their family should try camping. It didn't end well at all, and Sam had used to look back on that memory with pure relief that it was over, but not he wanted nothing else but to go back there.

He tugged the cover closer, holding it like it was a person who he rocked back and forth slowly. And soon enough he could feel tears rolling down his cheeks.

**Dean's POV**

Dean Winchester sat on the bed, back against the wall as he watched the nonsense coming from the television. He held a beer bottle in his hands and from time to time he took a gulp, hoping to kill off some brain cells.

It was horrible having to put all this crap on Sam, he'd rather just lie and tell him there was a nuclear war or something and hide him in Bobby's panic room until this was over.

He jumped a little by two loud noises from the room next door, Sam's room. It sounded like something was thrown against the wall. He wanted so badly to go see what it was, check if Sam was okay but he had promised to leave him alone. Besides, Cas had put up every anti-demon symbol there was inside the walls, including hex bags and other fun treats.

The older of the two brothers sighed as he turned around on the uncomfortable bed, cursing the motel for its thin walls. He'd rather listen to the old black and white drama show than his younger brother's crying.

**18/9-12, Tuesday, 5:02 PM.**

They had picked a great town for a quick rest, there was no demonic activity here. No activity at all, actually. It was mostly seniors and middle aged couples living here, almost no youngsters. All peace and quiet in other words.

Cas had disappeared when Dean had settled into the room when they first came here, and he hadn't heard from him since. It was two days ago now. He and Sam had done a little more talking earlier today, mostly it had been just Dean though. He had told Sam about his childhood, his parents and his time on the road with his father. He had left out the gory details though, figured that the kid had enough of those on his mind already.

Sam had first looked at Dean like he was an alien when he told all those personal stories, but Dean insisted and Sam hadn't protested then. He had even asked a few questions and commented a few things, which Dean took as a sign of hope. Perhaps he was warming up to the brother-thing?

So with a new feeling of hope he asked Sam if he wanted to go eat out tonight. He had spent two days straight inside the motel room, and Dean said it would do him good to get some air and be around people. It hadn't been easy to convince him, but Dean is a stubborn man and finally he succeeded.

They went to a little diner not far away, Sam kept awfully close to him, he even sat next to him by the table. Dean guessed he had done a lot of thinking about what really went on in the dark.

It was awfully quiet for a while as they just ate in silence, then suddenly Sam asked;

"Where is Castiel?"

Dean looked up from his food, raising his eyebrows like he hadn't heard, but honestly he was just thinking. He had no idea how to answer that.

"Uhm. He went to check out a case like a town away." He replied, trying to sound believable.

"But you guys travel in the same car right? And it stood outside the motel when we walked here."

"Yeah, but he knows I won't let just anyone drive my baby.. besides, the guy is a pro hitchhiker. You wouldn't believe it unless you see it."

Sam chuckled a little at that, and ate some more of his salad.

"You guys are really.. free? I don't know any other way to describe it. You break several rules of society and seem to just get away with it. Not that hitchhiking is a crime but.. I mean like your credit card. Jimmy Page? Come on. What's up with you and Led Zeppelin?"

Dean stared at him in disbelief. This was probably the most he had heard Sam speak in the same context in.. well since the _accident_.

"Hey, don't make it sound like it's something bad, Zeppelin freaking rules!"

This was where Dean started humming and singing Houses of the Holy, and Sam started to sink down in his seat from embarrassment. Dean was actually really good at acting like an obnoxious brother.

They spent at least 30 more minutes chatting, trying to keep a cheery subject. Then they walked back to the motel, and Sam looked a lot better than he did earlier. Dean felt more than proud over himself.

The door shut with a soft click, and Dean brought up a bottle of whiskey from his duffle bag. He turned around against Sam and smiled.

"Do you drink?"

"Not.. usually but I wouldn't mind one right now."

The dark blonde smiled at Sam, then took a pair of plastic mugs from the table in the room.

"We'll have to use what we've got, unfortunately." He joked, smirking lightly as he poured up the light orange liquid. He handed one of the cups to Sam, who hesitantly took it. He took a sip, but spit it back out when he had been startled from Castiel's sudden presence next to them.

"We need to leave right now." He declared with his normal stern voice, and was already packing Dean's stuff.

"How the heck did you get here?!" Sam croaked out.

Dean however, had apparently not gotten as surprised as Sam. He seemed a little irritated at his partner.

"What did you do?"

"I'm followed by a group of demons."

"Why didn't you just kill them?!"

"You can kill a demon?" Sam cut in, staring at the both of them.

"It's very difficult unless you have the right tool. There are only two objects that we know of that can kill a demon. This knife, and a very special gun I keep in my trunk."

Sam looked bewildered, staring at the knife for a few seconds before looking back at Dean.

"So why won't we stay and fight?"

"Because of you, Sam. It's too risky for you. That's why we need to go. Now." Castiel said as his blue eyes met Sam's briefly.

Well then. He wasn't going to protest if that's what the professionals thought.

He went after Dean as they hurried to the car, and he jumped into the front seat out of habit.

"What about my stuff?"

"Maybe we can get it back later, but right now that's the least of our priorities." Dean mumbled as he started the car, then glared through the rearview mirror at their motel room-door. He could see the lights starting flicker on the inside, which meant they were getting company _soon_.

"Come on Cas." He hissed through shut teeth. Dean knew he really didn't have to wait, but with Sam here he couldn't just speed off like he normally would, cuzz then he would have a heck of a lot explaining to do.

Soon enough the man in the trench coat walked out from the room with quick steps, and got into the backseat in a matter of seconds.

"I left a-.. I set a trap for them. They will think you are still in there. I'm certain they won't know what struck them."

Dean gave him a skeptical glance from the mirror.

"You say 'they won't know what hit 'em', not.. whatever you said. You sound way too formal, man."

Castiel didn't seem to bother responding to that, which Sam could understand. How the hell did these guys manage to act so casual to eachother when there were demons practically breathing down their necks?

He settled awkwardly in the seat with his head resting towards the window, hands resting in his lap and tugging the fabric of his pants. He had never before felt so damn useless.

**Sam's POV:**

They drove until the late hours of the evening, it was pitch black outside and it was getting increasingly colder. Sam had no idea where they were now, and he hadn't asked because whenever he sat a foot into Dean's car it was like all his suppressed thoughts came crashing back over him.

Sam glanced up at Dean, noting his serious expression. He looked like he was thinking too. Then Sam looked up into the rearview mirror at Cas, who was staring out of the window with an incredibly bored expression, if Sam didn't know any better he'd say that he looked almost restless.

Then Dean made a turn into one of the small roads, passing a sign that said something about an auto yard. He looked around at the different car wrecks and felt a little confused.

"Where are we?" He finally asked, looking at Dean again who seemed to be busy looking for somewhere to park his car.

"A friend of the family lives here. Bobby Singer. He's a hunter too, and his place is probably the safest place on earth."

".. Oh. Well, that's good." Sam replied as they stepped out from the car and started walking towards the large old house. They were greeted at the door by a mid-aged man with a shotgun, Sam had jumped and raised his hands, but Dean had just smirked at his old friend as the man, Bobby, put the gun away.

"Sorry for the scare. Is this..?"

"Yeah, Bobby this is Sam. Sam, Bobby Singer." He said with a smile as he took a step back to let his father-figure finally meet his up until now missing brother.

"Damn boy you've gotten big since I saw you last." He said with joy wrinkling his eyes as he took a step forward and pulled Sam into a tight hug. Sam looked incredibly uncomfortable, but he returned the hug by patting Bobby's back.

"I'm sorry but I don't-"

"Of course you don't remember, you were 3 months old."

"Oh.."

Bobby finally let him go, looking up towards him with a little hint of a smile that soon died away.

"You should come inside, all of ya, come on." Bobby said as he walked into his house with the trio following shortly after.

"So what brings you all to my humble residence?" Bobby asked with sarcasm thick on his voice as he sat down on a chair in the kitchen and started pouring up some whiskey to himself.

"There are demons rampaging towns after us, Dean seemed to think we would be safe here." Castiel said as he walked through the room, touching a vase standing on one of the shelves out of curiosity.

".. Why _thanks_. I don't know if I should be flattered or get pissed. Are you sure you weren't followed?"

"Yeah pretty sure. Cas sat a trap or something so we should be good."

"Yes, we're good for now." Castiel agreed, nodding as he turned around to the other people in the kitchen.

Sam stood awkwardly by the doorway, looking down into the floor as he tried to make sense of what they were talking about. It still sounded like crazy talk to him.

"You want something to drink Sam? I have alcohol, coffee and tea." Bobby said, breaking the short silence and surprising Sam enough for him to jump a little.

"Ehm. Some tea would be nice." He said and smiled a little. So far he liked Bobby. He seemed to be a pretty down to earth guy. The older man got up and started preparing the warm water.

Both Dean and Cas was looking at him, but Dean looked away when he saw that he had been noticed. Castiel however, didn't. Sam wasn't stupid. There was something they weren't telling him, and it was becoming a huge freakin' elephant in the room that the others thought Sam wasn't noticing.

He was handed a warm cup, and smiled thankfully to Bobby.

"Have you gotten an anti-possession symbol yet?" Bobby asked, dropping back down on his seat again and looked at Dean, who smacked himself in the forehead and went to fetch whatever it was. Sam had no idea. Bobby cleared his throat and looked at him with tired, yet kind eyes.

"If it means anything, I'm really sorry about all that happened."

".. Thanks.."

"You can stay here for as long as you like. John was an idiot, but he was a good-hearted idiot. The least I can do is to offer his sons all help I can give."

Sam couldn't help but smile at that, and he met Bobby's eyes once. "Thanks. Really. I don't think I can handle another motel."

Bobby chuckled bitterly at that, and took another sip from his whiskey.

"Oh you'll get used to those too, trust me."

Sam certainly didn't like the sound of that, but didn't get to ask what Bobby meant because Dean came into the room with a something that looked very much like a tool box. He put it onto the table and opened it, revealing that it was filled with all these different necklaces, wristbands and so on. It looked a whole lot like devil's worship.

Sam watched as Dean pulled up a silver necklace with a star placed inside of a circle, with something that looked like flames sprouting out from it. It was pretty, he had to admit.

Dean handed it over with a hint of a smile, before he sat down on one of the chairs. Sam followed his example and sat down too, while inspecting the necklace he had just been handed.

"So what does this do?"

"It's an anti-possession symbol. So demons can't possess you."

"So demons possess people?"

"Yeah that's their thing. In reality they look like a thick, black smoke. They go straight down your throat and then bam. You can't control your body anymore. Nastiest evil sons a' bitches out there, if you ask me."

Sam gulped, taking some time to think about what Dean said. He took the necklace on hesitantly, then looked up into his brother's eyes.

"So those men in my house.."

"Were just people, but they were possessed. They had no control of what they were doing."

Sam visibly gulped, but he didn't let himself get scared away.

"So.. tell me about this hunting business?" He asked, making Dean look a little surprised. But it was a good surprise, and Dean spent hours that night telling Sam all about the basics of hunting.


End file.
